


Extra Time

by jestbee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: FIFA World Cup 2018, Fluff, Football, Inspired by instagram stories, M/M, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 08:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: Dan had been planning to just hide away and find some WiFi and watch it on his phone, but there Quentin was asking him if he wanted to go to the room backstage and watch it with him and some of the others.





	Extra Time

**Author's Note:**

> Between this and Kick Off I didn't think I'd be writing so much football content considering I don't actually watch football but... here we are.
> 
> btw I don't know anything about their security guard so I just made a guy up.

Quentin looks surprised to see that Phil isn't with him. 

"We're not attached at the hip," he tells their security guard. The same one that's been following them around for a while now. 

"Could have fooled me." 

He doesn't sound judgmental, or that he's implying anything, but Dan feels himself squirm a little under his assessment anyway. 

He feels a little out of place in this room, to be honest. The others seem much more well suited to be watching players on the television screen file out onto the pitch. They're all shaved heads and arms the thickness of Dan's head, and here he is with his curly hair and the earring and his jacket sleeves pulled down over his fists. Martyn is the only friendly face in the room and even he looks like he belongs.

Dan tries to tuck those thoughts away, knowing it's only something left over from his internal struggle with being comfortable in his own skin. His fucking hair doesn't mean he can't sit here quite happily and watch the football. 

Suddenly, he wishes Phil _were_ here. 

"You want to watch the match with us?" Quentin had asked that morning. They're at the venue anyway because they had to do soundcheck early and Dan had been planning to just hide away and find some wifi and watch it on his phone, but there Quentin was asking him if he wanted to go to the room backstage and watch it with him and some of the others. 

Dan looked over at Phil. 

"You should," Phil shrugged. 

"Err," Dan said, narrowing his eyes at Phil before turning back to Quentin. "Sure, yeah. Thanks." 

"What?" Phil had asked as Quentin walked away. 

"It's going to be so awkward," Dan said. 

"You might as well go watch it with people that like it," Phil says, "You'll only try and tell me about it and then get grumpy when I'm not bothered." 

"I don't do that," Dan said. 

"You do." Phil knocked the back of his hand against the back of Dan's. "Go on, it'll be fun." 

And Dan thinks that it might be fun, but Quentin is giving him that strange look and Dan feels like he has to explain where Phil is. 

"He doesn't... he's not a fan of sport." 

They all take their seats on the sofas and Dan finds a spot on the end of one, but still has to wedge himself in next to Quentin.

It's not all bad, there's a camaraderie in it and Dan settles in to being a part of it easily and they all accept him without question.

The room swells with noise every time the teams gets close to the right end of the pitch and Dan gets swept along, making the appropriate noises himself with very little self conscious appraisal. 

Martyn sits on the other sofa on the opposite wall and smiles at Dan occasionally. 

It's nil - nil by half time but he feels a pleasant kind of energy running through him. This might be what it is like to have friends that like football. To be part of the _lads_ down the pub drinking beer and watching sport. 

Maybe it wouldn't be his thing, not all the time, but it's fun to dip a toe in how he's being given a chance.

There are people, at home, but he never really does this. The whole watching the match together thing. He usually just plonks himself down in their living room and puts up with Phil's fond teasing. 

The match breaks for fifteen minutes and they all split off to fill the time before the second half.

Some of the crew wander off to the venue bar to get drinks but Dan stays behind, keeping his seat on the end of the couch. 

He takes his phone from his pocket and texts Phil, just to keep him updated.

**Dan: It's 0 - 0 at half time.**

Phil texts back pretty quickly. He should worry that it's only been forty five minutes and he'd felt the need to text Phil already, but he'd stopped analysing those impulses a while ago, resigned to the fact that he's always going to be a little bit extra when it comes to Phil.

**Phil: I thought that was an emoticon… 0_0**

**Dan: dork**

**Phil: Also, I'm still not bothered about the football. I don't need text updates**

**Dan: well you're getting them what are you doing anyway?**

**Phil: I'm with the merch team**

Dan gets a funny image of Phil sat on the edge of the merch stand, swinging his feet and gossiping about something inane. No doubt regaling the American girls with tales of the royal family while they set up.

He hopes Sarah is giving him a hard time about it and letting him know he's in the way. In fact, Dan hopes she makes him help.

Dan is going to text him back, tell him to have fun, but Martyn comes back in to the room carrying a bottle of beer. 

"Alright?" he says.

He doesn't have one for Dan because he knows Dan wouldn't drink it before the meet and greet.

"Hey." Dan puts his phone back in his pocket. 

"They've got a cocktail of you at the bar," Martyn said, smirking. 

"A what?" 

Martyn laughs amusedly, shaking his head a little at how ridiculous it is. "They've named a cocktail after you and Phil. Or well..  
Your video anyway." 

"Shit," Dan says, giving his own little laugh. Because yeah, that is a little ridiculous. Moreso because it isn't the first time. "What's in it?" 

Martyn shrugs, "couldn't tell." 

Martyn isn't the type to check things like that. He tends to view the whole thing, Dan and Phil's careers, with a kind of wry amusement because, in his eyes, Phil is still just his little brother and Dan will always be that scrawny kid who suddenly started turning up to family gatherings when Martyn came back home to visit. They're friends now, and business partners in something dependent on their completely ridiculous careers, but Martyn never misses a chance to pick on him as if Dan is his little brother too. 

And that's kind of nice. 

The others come back in to the room and the match is starting up again. Dan leans back in his seat. 

Ten minutes in to the second half, England score. Harry Kane, who looks a little like James Van Der Beek and plays for Tottenham. 

The room is loud and raucous when it happens and Dan finds himself joining in. He wouldn't usually make such a spectacle, not when he's sat on his own living room floor, but here with the whole group he feels like joining in. 

The rest of the second half is tense. There are no more goals when they hit ninety minutes but there's always a bit added on to account for pauses in play due to injury or substitutions. 

They make it three minutes into the seven minutes of stoppage time at the end before it's all dashed. Colombia score a goal with a cross off a corner and it's one all, the room makes disappointed noises. 

"Extra time," Quentin says at his left, hopeful. 

"We've got thirty minutes to bring it back," Dan says, and he's proud of how he sounds like he knows what he's talking about. 

He likes sport. He enjoys the olympics and F1 and this isn't any different. It's just the whole culture of football is somehow different, and as much as he jokes about it, he does have moments of feeling like he doesn't belong. 

Quentin slaps him on the shoulder and nods enthusiastically, "That's it, keep the faith." 

Martyn smiles across the room and gives him a little nod. 

**Dan: one all with extra time**

**Phil: Still don't care :P**

**Phil: You're not going to be late for the m &g are you?**

Dan sighs, because depending on how this goes they will hopefully just make it. 

**Dan: not if we win**

**Phil: if we lose are you staying put in protest?**

**Dan: i meant unless it goes to penalties you spork**

**Phil: Right. Penalties. I knew that.**

Dan smiles down at his phone. 

"Phil worried about the meet and greet?" Martyn asks from across the room. 

"You know your brother," Dan says, putting his phone away. "Always the worrier. We'll be fine." 

"That's the spirit," Martyn says, "go team." 

Dan can't tell whether he's joking or not because Martyn is always a little dry, but he looks amused so Dan laughs anyway.

There are a couple more attempts to score during the extra time, more than a few. The team are really going for it because if they lose this then that's it. They're out of the World Cup. Everyone in the room seems to be holding their breath, making rising noises every time the ball is kicked towards the goal once again.

Nothing lands, it's still one all when the final whistle blows. Dan pulls his phone out and does an instagram story to document his rising stress levels while the players rearrange themselves on the pitch.

**Dan: penalties**

**Phil: We're going to be late!**

**Dan: no we're not**

The shootout is fraught with tension. Dan's heart is beating a little fast as he watches the five players from each team take their place. Each time a player moves up to the ball it seems to take an age for them to cross the pitch. The goalie's switch off, nerves showing on their faces, lines etched around their eyes. 

They're young, all of them, Dan's age or younger and he can't imagine what it must be like to be under that much pressure in front of the entire nation. Radio shows, presenting, this whole world tour, suddenly none of that seems as daunting. At least he's playing for an audience that loves him. 

Colombia scores.

England scores. 

Colombia again.

England again.

Colombia for a third.

Jordan Henderson approaches the ball. 

Quentin groans. "He's going to miss."

Dan is chewing on his lip as the player's right foot connects with the ball and it sails towards the bottom right hand corner of the net and... it's saved. England don't get the goal. 

It's 4 - 3 to Colombia and Dan has never felt so stressed in his life. 

They've got two shots left each.

Quentin is a ball of pessimism. "They never win on penalties," he says, "we're going to choke." 

"Hey," Dan says, the urge to Google when the last time England won on penalties really strong, "keep the faith." 

The Colombian player sends the ball flying. It sails through the air right towards the goal and Dan can hear a murmur from around the room as it begins its descent. 

It bounces off the top bar of the goal, ricocheting back towards the pitch. Colombia misses.

The crew send a loud whoop into the room and Dan joins in. 

"Okay," Quentin says, shifting in his seat. "Okay." 

No one knows what's going to happen. Dan leans forward in his seat. 

The next one goes in the top left corner, Trippier coming through for them, and England are back level. 4 - 4 as both teams are down to their last shot. 

This is it. If Colombia make their next shot, England need to level and go to sudden death, or they lose. 

Dan watches Martyn drink the remainder of his beer, and Quentin's hand is curled into a tight fist beside him. 

"Fucking miss," Dan hears him mutter under his breath. 

The Colombian player approaches the ball. They're skilled, of course they are, playing at this level they're all skilled. England don't do well with penalties so it's pretty much unheard of for them to win this but Dan can't help but hope. 

Phil would be rolling his eyes if he was here and asking him why he cares so much. But Dan finds it easy to go along with the excitement, to feel a part of something he'd previously not allowed himself to be for fear of not being good enough, manly enough. 

Their goalkeeper looks stoic. Kudos to him for being calm under pressure as Bacca takes the shot and the ball comes towards him with full force. It's right on centre, Pickford saves it at the last minute. 

It didn't go in. England still have a chance. 

Dan digs out his phone from where its fallen off his lap as Dier takes position. The ball is put back in to place and the Colombian goalkeeper's face is betraying his nerves just the tiniest bit. 

Dier winds up, his right foot connecting with the ball and Dan holds up his phone, capturing the moment with his thumb held down for a video. 

Bottom left corner. The net undulates as it connects. The whole room erupts in to noise and Dan's camera angle is jostled as he shoots up from his seat along with everyone else. His framing is all over the place and he just about manages to get the tv back in shot, his hand nearly covering the lens. 

"Oh my god," he says, spinning the phone in his hand to turn it round to his face, fingers pressed to his cheek. "I'm literally gonna die that was the most stressful experience of my life." 

The video ends. His phone goes back in his pocket. 

England wins. They're on to the next stage.

"Sweden next," Martyn says to him as they leave the room. 

"Ooo, unlucky," Dan jokes, "good job you're here. I imagine that'd be a little tense with Corndog, eh?" 

Martyn laughs before the sound fades, "uh oh," he says, "looks like you're in trouble too." 

Phil is stood in the hall looking harried. "We're late," he says. 

Dan looks down at his phone screen, pretending to check the time, "are we?" 

"Don't," Phil says. "Just... come on." 

He's not really annoyed, and they're not really all that late. It's just that Phil likes to be on time for things. Early. This is a conversation they've had a million times. 

"We won," Dan says as they climb the stairs to the meet & greet area. 

"Don't care," Phil says, smiling back at him despite himself. 

"Oh cheer up you old grump," Dan laughs, pushing at Phil's shoulder. "I'll buy you an 'us' cocktail later." 

"A... what?" 

They're at the door. On the other side of it there are a couple of hundred fans waiting to meet them. Dan is happy with the joy of England winning, of spending some time with the guys and not feeling out of place. He laughs at Phil's confusion and pushes the door open. 

"You'll see."


End file.
